Vexations
by Street Howitzer
Summary: Anakin and ObiWan discuss personality flaws. Takes place between TPM and AotC. Rated for implied QuiGonxObiWan slash.


"Vexations"

by Street Howitzer

_NOTES: This story makes one reference to the events in the Jedi Apprentice novels, but it's a big one, regarding Master Tahl. If you haven't read those books, and would like to in the future, don't read this story, as it will spoil you. Other than that, the story itself is long after the JA books are over, so I filed it as a movie-fic. I apologize for any confusion._

"What about Master Qui-Gon?" 

Obi-Wan stared. To be truthful, in spite of years of Jedi training in decorum and self-control, he nearly gaped. "I don't think I know what--"

"No. Stop there." Any other Padawan in the Galaxy would have been soundly castigated for such impertinence. Of course, Anakin was no normal Padawan; occasionally, his Master pondered whether or not his skills in the Force were channeled solely into stiffening his neck. "Master Yoda doesn't think I've the skills to be a Jedi. He still thinks I'm too afraid."

"It isn't your skills, and you know that. He merely worried that you would be unable to learn how to control them properly."

Anakin dismissed that idea with a shake of his head. "It comes to the same. He never thought I was worthy. And you might think I am, but you don't think I'll ever get there, with how you talk about _fear_ and _anger_." Scorn sizzled from his words. "You think that my emotions will make me fail."

He sighed. "No. I believe that you will become a great Knight, but I also believe that you will first need to learn to control--" 

"And am I the only Padawan who feels? Didn't you? Doesn't everyone? Why doesn't everyone else get such critique heaped on their heads?"

"I think that you have an overly-developed sense of injustice," Obi-Wan said, halfway to himself. "Anakin, every Padawan _does_ receive their fair share of chastisement. It's all a part of learning. I can't praise you when you've done something incorrectly."

"And what if I haven't?" The youth (he was barely much older than Obi-Wan himself had been when he'd first started to learn under his Master) glared over at him, his gaze smoldering with frustration. "You're not perfect. No Jedi is flawless, are they?" 

"Of course we aren't perfect," he said, his tones calm, struggling to soothe. That it was a struggle at all made him wonder, and not for the first time, if he was really capable of teaching Anakin anything. Qui-Gon might have been skilled enough (or, at least, patient enough) to weather the boy's stubbornness; too often, he thought that he couldn't compare to his old Master's teaching skills. "Our way is not a destination. It's a journey, one you'll walk your entire life. All journeys have trials."

"Exactly!" His Padawan stood up, pacing back and forth across his meditation-mat. "We all will have our mistakes and our faults. You're so quick to point mine out--well, what about your old Master's? What were _his_ flaws? What did he do wrong? If you're so aware of what others are doing incorrectly, surely you can point his troubles out with no effort at all."

Obi-Wan shut his eyes. He could control every other part of his body, every muscle and drop of blood--everything but the expression in his eyes. And he did not want for Anakin to see how well that particular stab had wounded him. The boy had enough to be vain about. 

After a few moments of focus (think of nothing but the sound of breath, not even the throbbing of your own heart), he opened his eyes, and nearly told Anakin that he had overstepped his bounds long ago, and that he should, perhaps, return to his own quarters and calm himself before they spoke further. A part of him even fantasized about going beyond that, and telling him that he wasn't meant to be Anakin's Master after all, and that he should seek the tutelage of someone far wiser and more patient than he. He couldn't indulge anything resembling a direct answer; to do so would be to let Anakin think that he was in control.

And he couldn't allow himself to blaspheme his old Master's memory.

Finally, though, he found himself saying something quite the opposite:

"Anger."

Anakin looked flabbergasted. He stopped his pacing, his blue eyes wide with obvious, almost stereotypical surprise. He'd likely expected to be rebuked for his daring. To be indulged threw him off, and brought his attention more firmly to his Master. "But..." he started, then stopped, as if he couldn't decide which thought he needed to speak first. "But--Master Qui-Gon wasn't angry at all! He was always gentle with me, and everyone says that he was the most compassionate--"

It was Obi-Wan's turn to interrupt his apprentice. "Qui-Gon was the most compassionate and giving man I've ever known. I think he was the most giving man _anyone_ could ever know. And that was why he struggled with his rage."

He fully expected to hear scoffing at this, or frustration; both were reactions Anakin tended to have, when he didn't understand something that was being told to him. For once, then, he was pleasantly surprised. He silently watched as Anakin considered what he'd been told, then settled back down onto his mat, resting on his knees, rather than in the usual meditation position. The anger and the fear that so often stormed in the Padawan's gaze slowly died down, replaced by a contemplative curiosity. "I... I don't think I understand. I thought that we sought compassion as a virtue." 

"Any virtue, taken to its extreme, becomes a vice. Qui-Gon was no exception. He... He loved too much, and too easily, and too often. And when he could do nothing to help what he loved, he could be moved to anger. And sometimes, to sheer rage." He cleared his throat. "It is not given to Jedi to attach themselves to others, Anakin, but Qui-Gon was infamous for doing so. In the time I knew him, he even fell in love. That first time, his love for Master Tahl almost drove him to destruction. He nearly turned to the Dark Side when she was murdered. He was consumed with a rage unlike anything I'd ever seen before--all because he had loved her, and had been helpless to save her."

Anakin shifted uncomfortably on his mat, his hands slowly clenching into fists against his knees. Obi-Wan did not require a knowledge of the Force to see that the boy was imagining someone he loved being murdered, and what he might do if he were in Qui-Gon's place. "What did he do?"

"He resisted." It had been a near thing, nearer than he wanted to admit to anyone--in the end, that would have been Qui-Gon's business to discuss with others, and not his. That his Master had come out of it all the stronger for it was all that mattered, in the end.

For a few moments, Anakin fell silent, as he thought over what he'd been told. Perhaps he was pondering still what he would do if he'd been in Qui-Gon's position; perhaps he was thinking of how different the Galaxy would be, if Qui-Gon had given in. Obi-Wan left his thoughts alone and unmolested; he sensed confusion and worry, and little else. If he dug much deeper, Anakin would know, and that never failed to put him off. Finally, his Padawan said: "And of the next?"

"I don't think I understand you."

"You said 'that first time'. His first love, right? So there was another." Anakin nodded, as if Obi-Wan had confirmed his words. "Who was it? Another Jedi?"

The Knight cleared his throat. He found that it was his turn to shift a bit, in thoughtful embarrassment. "I believe that it is only fair for me to keep at least one of my Master's secrets."

Though the apprentice he'd come to know over the last five years had rarely left a question unanswered, Anakin seemed somehow satisfied with this. His gaze was faraway, as he dwelt on (or so Obi-Wan hoped) a more-human picture of the long-dead Jedi in his mind. If he was, then perhaps this wasn't a hopeless conversation. It was simple to learn of the feats of famous Jedi; that's what the Archives were for, and even barring that, any soul in the Temple could tell of the bravery and compassion of Qui-Gon Jinn. Anakin himself had to have some memories of the man who'd gambled him out of slavery. But even so, it was harder to remember the dead as more than talking lightsabers and Force-vessels... as imperfect living beings, people who had laughed and wept, fought attachments and hatred, dealt with fear and love.

If he could learn that, perhaps he could accept that even he had limitations. And tamp down his swiftly-inflating ego.

As the silence spun out, Obi-Wan rose to his feet. His mind was dark, shadowed with thoughts of what was, and a simple mental recitation of _a Jedi does not cling to the past _would not summon any light for some time. If nothing else, this was the most dangerous thing about being near Anakin: working with someone who was so prone to passions dredged up all those old memories, of when he was far younger, more rebellious, and far more passionate than any Jedi-in-training had a right to be. Without speaking a dismissal to his apprentice, he strode to the doorway, which slid open with a soft, pneumatic hiss. He was about to cross the threshold, when Anakin spoke again:

"And you?" 

The question was disjointed, out of context, but he had no trouble understanding. Anakin wanted to know that he could confess his own flaws as easily as he could name those of others. With how he talked, he seemed to think that Obi-Wan's talk of his fears were unjust and unearned nastiness, and that his Master was blinded to his own pitfalls along his path. If that was so, then Anakin knew nothing about him. Had he not endlessly questioned whether he was able to train such an infinitely-strong and stubborn pupil? Had he not felt his own youthful pride struggle and die against the endless challenges presented to him, and did he not worry that each trial would be the one that broke either his mind, or his strength as a Jedi? Had he not mourned far longer than was expected, even for a Padawan weeping over a dead Master?

There was only one answer to be had. It was not always true, but in that moment, it was the only word that he could even feel.

"Despair."

And the door hissed shut behind him.

-end-


End file.
